Miles To Go
by Terias Mcklay
Summary: When Jefferson's hat pulls Emma into the Enchanted Forest, it is Regina, not Snow, who follows, determined to win back her son's love by returning his birth mother home. But unexpected danger lurks in the Enchanted Forest, danger to which even The Evil Queen may not be immune. SwanQueen.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Obviously, no rights belong to me.

**Author's Notes:** This work contains major plot spoilers up to Season 2, and minor character spoilers up to Season 3. I'll be aiming for weekly updates which shouldn't be too onerous as half of the story is written, just in need of editing.

Please, don't forget to tip your bards. If you take the time to read, do us authors a solid and take the extra second to review. Comments and constructive criticisms are always welcome.

888

It was bone deep. A sudden, thrilling rush as magic sprung to life in her hands, righting what was most wrong with this mundane dimension. It was galling that the moment was tainted, facilitated by the unfortunate Charming offspring touching her arm to activate Jefferson's hat. The endless twirl of the hat refused to let Regina's eyes escape, nausea quickly overtaking joy at being reunited with her power. The howl of the Wraith brought her attention from herself back to the catastrophe of a situation Gold had created. The Wraith was breaking through the paltry fire wall that Snow and her insipid little husband had concocted.

The hat did its work just as the Wraith crossed the barrier, a portal opening to the cursed void Regina had worked so desperately to escape. Tile heaved and buckled as the very fabric of the dimension rended itself to shreds, tearing the flood asunder.

The portal was open, they just needed a way to lure the Wraith in. Regina turned to Snow, good always won after all, time for the princess to make herself useful. The hesitation in Snow's eyes told her all she needed, the woman was competing with herself. Debating the merits of holding to her 'good' nature and helping Regina or simply letting nature take its course. Her husband would be of no better use.

It was Emma Swan, her nemesis, her son's thief, the product of those she hated most, who finally acted, driving her shoulder into Regina as the Wraith struck. It threw them both off balance, the Wraith's shadowy figure thrashing wildly as the powerful tunnel sucked into the black.

It managed to get a claw into the Sheriff, her pained keen cutting through the windstorm as the Wraith's talons sank deep into her leg, pulling her across checkered floor into the vortex.

Regina's movements were instinct -borne from years of self preservation- as she dove off her knees, clasping a well manicured hand around the Sheriffs arm, grip tightening to keep the woman in place. The blonde was the key to unlocking magic in this mundane dimension, her only chance of survival.

Fingers, slick with sweat and panic, slid along the sleeve of that unseemly red jacket, Regina's grip on the woman loosening as the vortex swirled below, a funnel of churning magic that refused to give ground as denim clad legs kicked fruitlessly for traction.

"Are you twits good for anything?" Her frustrated snarl reached beyond the chaotic edges of the void to the two stunned dunces who seemed locked in place, staring stupidly as their daughter hovered over a pit of death. It was Charming -she could barely think the name without gagging, even after all these years- who acted first, throwing his weight across Regina's legs to stop her steady slide to the edge of the void. Snow was next, reaching out for her daughter's other arm as the woman swung below.

They didn't have much time. The portal was closing, if the woman wasn't retrieved wholesale they'd be better off letting her fall and land where she may.

The rush was further emphasized as the portal entrance began to shrink, pulling the lot of them further toward the centre of the town hall floor. There was no help for it now. Swan was going in.

Certain death awaited Emma on the other side, unarmed and ignorant of her homeland, presuming anything was even left of the Enchanted Forest. Regina wished she could enjoy the moment, it was a long time coming, but it wasn't something she could allow. Swan wouldn't have a chance on her own and Regina couldn't risk losing her, not with Henry out of her reach.

An act of selflessness, she couldn't manage. But an act of love, to regain her son, his love for her, that she could do. Nevermind that there would be no dealing with the Charmings if they deemed her the cause of Emma's loss. Regina surrendered to the stupidity of her decision, calling on her magic to form around her. Her grip of Swan allowed her to do it, energy crackling off the woman's body as though her veins were live wires, the current humming through even the barrier of her clothes.

Regina couldn't fight the vortex but she could at least make sure they weren't split in half when it closed. The burst of energy from Regina's free hand drove Snow off her daughter, a mother's cry falling from her lips as she recognized the inevitable loss, hatred burning dark in doe like eyes as she turned her gaze on Regina.

Charming wasn't as easy to remove, the energy bolt causing a grunt but little else from the man. Damn, stubborn goat herder, the vortex was closing and it would be a near enough miss as it was. She didn't have time to negotiate, instead Regina spoke, hoping to break through the unending barrier of stupidity he seemed cloaked in.

"Take care of Henry."

"Wh..."

Regina drove her elbow into his nose, a pedestrian, uncouth, peasant move that was undeniably satisfying as he not only released her but cried out as he rolled away. Her body's response was immediate, sliding over the edge and into the vortex, hand still clasped around the Saviour's arm as magic pulled them back to their homeland.

Regina tried not to make a habit of travelling through portals and this one in particular -whether because of destination or by design- was particularly unpleasant. Brutal winds lashed at too thin cloth as they fell, darkness overhead as the portal closed completely. Her grip on Emma loosened as the portal worked to tear them apart. That wouldn't do. If they were separated there was no telling where they might end up. With her luck, Regina would end up pitching the precious Saviour right into Ogre territory.

For once, she was grateful Emma's strength, the other woman muscling their bodies together, chest to chest, minimizing the space between them to reduce the inertia that threatened to tear them apart.

"Are we going to to able to land without cracking our skulls open?" Emma yelled, tucking her mouth tight to Regina's ear so she could be heard over the storm around them. The portal opened beneath them, grey clouds visible and somewhere, far below, the ground.

"I wouldn't bet on it," Regina yelled back, shaking her head as they were pitched from the vortex.

Regina could have hung herself as her mother's words rang in her ears, and damned if she hadn't known better.

No good deed goes unpunished.

888

The portal spit them out some forty feet above ground, her grip of Emma allowing Regina the courtesy of softening their fall with a spontaneously conjured mound of hay. It bled off the worst of it but was by no means a pleasant landing. Sharp shards of hay cut into her palms as she hit, the mound compacting beneath her body before her momentum threw her off the top. She rolled down the side, Emma tumbling next to her, an undignified grunt pulled from the former Queen's lips as she impacted the ground.

She let go the Saviours hand then, glad to be rid of the intimate touch, though she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the current of power that came with the contact. It was a slow road to her knees, her ribs protesting such unusual abuse. Even in her heyday, when assassination had tempts had been the rule rather than the exception, she hadn't been accustomed to many injuries. Magic and might had its privileges after all.

"That sucked."

A dark eyebrow, delicately but deliberately raised, indicated Regina's lack of amusement with the pun.

"Not one for joking the face of death?"

"On the contrary, dear," Regina rebutted, "I'm well acquainted with it. I simply not quite so ham handed about it."

"Right." Emma brushed the hay from her shoulders. "Anyway. Thanks, I guess? For saving us? I mean." Emma waved vaguely at the pile of hay before she struggled to her feet and offered Regina a hand. "It wasn't exactly smooth but any landing you can walk away from."

"Indeed."

"So, where are we?"

Regina turned, eyes raised to a suddenly gunmetal grey sky, unable to determine direction by the hidden sun. She cast her gaze to the mountains in the distance, allowing herself a brief moment of congratulations that she could easily identify their location. Even twenty eight years later.

"We're near my castle, shouldn't be more than half a day's walk."

"I thought..." the blonde paused, green eyes betraying their confusion, the woman evidently trying to work something out in her mind. Pity. Between her parents they'd only had half a brain to give her to start with. "Didn't you destroy this place? I thought the curse wiped it out."

"As did I. Evidently we were misinformed. Gold had his reasons, no doubt."

"Gold?"

"Gold," Regina paused and corrected herself, "Rumpelstiltskin created the curse, dear. I merely enacted it." Regina twitched her cuffs into place, briefly smoothing the front of her skirt. A half days walk would be hell in high heels but that's what she owed herself for letting fashion overtake function. She had grown too complacent, even in the face of the Charming's memory recovery. Soft, her mother would say. "Come along, we have miles to go before we sleep."

Seeming to recognize that Regina had the upper hand in the matter, Emma obediently followed along, hand never far from the pistol at her hip as she walked. She was observant, Regina couldn't deny that, keen eyes missed nothing, blonde locks swishing from side to side as the Saviour took in every noise, every movement.

Regina was surprised there was any movement to be hand. The fields had gone fallow, long left unattended, even in the days before the curse had come to pass. Gray soil, cracked and dry gave birth to weak fields of wild grass, yellow and brittle and patchy. The forest past the fields was no different, trees divested off all but the greyest of leaves, hanging tenaciously to dry trees. The ground crunched and crackled beneath them, the heavy boots of the saviour crushing a generation of leaves to dust beneath her feet.

It was the smell that hit Regina first, long forgotten but instantly familiar as it invaded her nostrils, permeating the air with a sickly stench that Emma immediately wrinkled her nose at. Next was the noise, lumbering steps, far too loud for human feet.

"What the hell is that sm..?"

Regina clamped a hand over the Saviour's mouth, dragging her to the ground without so much as a 'how do you do'. Green eyes, instantly furious at the rough treatment, glared at Regina who gestured her chin toward the source of her consternation. Emma titled her head slowly, Regina's hand still clamped firmly over her mouth in case the woman gave in to the childish urge to scream.

It wasn't a scream but a disbelieving and harsh whisper that met Regina's ears as Emma pried her hand loose. "You've got to be shitting me!"

"Sssh!" Honestly, had the foolish woman read none of those irritating little tales in Henry's book? Ogres weren't beings to be trifled with, least of all by unarmed women in the middle of the damned Dark Forest. They had been lucky to be downwind of him, the twenty foot tall behemoth lumbering like a log, knocking down hundred year old trees as though they were toothpicks as he made his way.

Regina couldn't trust her magic was intact given all of the curse and she wasn't about to test herself out on a full grown ogre. Their best bet was to sit quietly until he passed. She felt more than saw the Sheriff's hand slide toward her pistol, and gave a small shake of her head. A gun wasn't going to do anything save call attention to themselves with the noise it made. She had seen ogres take cannonballs to the gut without much more than a stutter.

Reaching out, Regina pressed a hand over Emma's to still the agitated woman's movement, just the click of sliding the safety off could alert the ogre to their presence. Her eyes found Emma's, hoping her calm would pass to her companion, so long as they remained still, they were fine. Emma pursed her lips, giving a brief nod before a tanned hand slid from the holster on her hip, wordless acceptance that they would play it Regina's way.

It worked as she hoped, the ogre moving out of sight without incident. She waited until the snap of trees echoed in the distance before pushing herself up.

"Was that actually... I mean...ogres are real?"

"You slew a dragon no more than a week ago and you're honestly surprised about ogres?" Regina began walking without waiting for answer, obviously the Sheriff had inherited the sense of her parents. She led them on to her castle, the moon peeking over the edges of the mountains as they arrived at the village that once populated the base of her castle.

Emma's eyes widened as she took it all in, the crumbling homes nestled against the massive castle that rose as if from hell itself. The citadels towered high against the backdrop of dark mountains whose snowy peaks were cloaked by charcoal tinted clouds.

Regina sucked in a deep a breath, the crisp air filling her lungs.

Home sweet home.

"Wow." It was all the Saviour uttered as they ascended the winding road that led from the village proper to Regina's castle. The village had been evacuated, long before Regina had been banished to its confines. A plague had ripped through its populace, the deserted Dark Kingdom deemed a fitting place for the end of Regina's days.

The castle wasn't much, the former ruler more barbarian than king, and was far outshone by the opulence of the White Kingdom castle. There was no moat to speak off, the small tunnels having run dry, the large horse doors that loomed at the entrance capable of keeping out peasants with pickaxes but not a true armed force. It had offered Regina enough protection to be safe in her home without allowing her the arrogance of assuming it was impregnable should she step out of line.

As irritating as Snow was, Regina couldn't deny that the pale princess had gained a worldly intelligence on military matters over the years. Had Snow not been so saddled with her insipid ideas of 'good', she would have done the right thing and killed Regina long ago. Simpering little weakling.

They walked along the crushed stone path that led them to the castle itself, Emma's eyes constantly shifting as she took in the somewhat derelict monolith. Servants weren't a luxury Regina had been afforded and her time and efforts had been better concentrated on vengeance, not housekeeping.

Regina waved off the warding spell that held her castle secure, even in the face of the curse. There was no need for grandstanding so she left the ornate horse gates unopened, slipping easily through the servants doors off to the side.

The courtyard was intensely quiet, only her companion's laboured breathing breaking the stillness that surrounded them. It hadn't been t_ha_t long of a walk up.

"I'd hate to think our Sheriff is out of shape."

"Hey, it's been a long day. What are we even doing here?" Swan asked, following Regina as she walked across the cobblestone courtyard toward the main hall.

"It's much safer in here than out there, Sheriff, I assure you. We'll need somewhere to rest while we plan our next move."

"Our next move is getting the hell back to Storybrooke."

Regina fought -rather valiantly she thought- to contain the sigh that seemed determined to be let loose. "Yes, dear, I'm aware of that. I meant plan our way of getting home." Regina revealed, her voice level enough that she rewarded herself with a mental pat on the back. She walked along the red carpet that led to her defunct throne, passing it with a brief touch to scarred wood.

"Oh. So, no grand schemes to take over the Enchanted Kingdom while we're on layover?"

"Hardly," Regina let out with a scoff as they walked the dark halls of her castle. "What's the use of ruling over scorched earth? All I want is to get back to my son." She looked out through the tall, narrow window, wishing to see her mansion, the clock, hell, even the cockroach hotel that was Granny's diner. Anything other than the endless shadows of a decimated kingdom.

While this had once been her home, it was no longer. Her heart belonged with her son now, he was her home and she would burn down what was left of this kingdom if it meant getting back to him.

"Our son."

It felt like so long since Emma had spoken that Regina didn't register the words. "What?"

"Our son, Regina."

Regina bristled at the tone, fury with the arrogant interloper warring with her fury at herself for saving the spawn of her nemesis. One moment of soft hearted do gooding for Henry's sake and now she was doomed to pay for it forever.

"We'll see, Miss Swan." Was all the words Regina allowed herself to spare, anything more would have been littered with the uncouth cursing of peasantry. The darkness of the halls grew as they walked, windows fewer and further between as they approached Regina's old chambers, her predecessors idea of security measures.

An assured snap of lean fingers proved fruitless, the unlit wall torches the uncaring targets of Regina's magical attempt. She concentrated more fully, it had been long years since needing to access magic so easily, evidently she was rusty. Another snap yielded still nothing, the torches flickering briefly as if to mock her before darkening once more.

"Are you testing for an echo or..?"

Peasants, indeed even royals, had literally wet their pants in consequence of Regina's glare which she turned on the Saviour who at least had the grace to seem contrite at the interruption. Tamping down on her pique, Regina turned back to the torches, it wouldn't do for her to lose control of her emotions as she was attempting magic. With her luck she would end up turning one or both of them into kindling.

Her third attempt proved no more successful, the torches didn't even afford her the satisfaction of sputtering.

Ridiculous.

The most powerful sorceress in the known kingdoms and she couldn't call upon the most simple of elemental spells. A hand found her wrist, startling Regina from her moment of self flagellation.

"You know, I've got a lighter in pocket, it's not a big deal."

Regina sneered at that, did the woman truly not understand the ramifications? She had bet on her powers to get them home, to get her home. To Henry. Had she known she would be stripped of her most ready weapon, she wouldn't have followed the infuriating woman into this damned kingdom to begin with.

"Regina, come on, let's get some rest. You probably just need to recharge your battery or something." Emma's grip on her wrist tightened, the Sheriff attempting to pull Regina along, as if she were some horse to be led to stable. The assumption, the unmitigated gall of the peasant princess forced Regina's temper to flare of its own accord.

"Unhand me, Miss Swan!" The flair of her temper coincided with the flare of the torches, lighting themselves so violently that those closest to Regina spewed shards of flaming wood across the dark hallway.

"What the shit?!" Emma stepped back, releasing Regina's hand as a fiery mass landed at her feet.

Regina turned from the lit torches to her companion and back again, dark eyes narrowing to near slits as realization poked at the remnants of denial. She grabbed the Saviour by the arm, turning back to the torches with a cut of her hand to to leave them in darkness once more. A snap of her fingers and the torches lit, one by one, with each successive snap.

When the torches were lit as far as her chamber, Regina released her hold on her companion, long years of reigning in her temper all that kept her from throwing an all out tantrum. Fate had a sense of humour that it insisted on directing at her. It wasn't content to bring the tempestuous Sheriff into her world simply to tear it down. Nor to isolate them in a derelict kingdom together. No, now her powers were somehow linked to the woman at her side.

Ridiculous.

"What in the hell was that about?"

"It seems, unfortunately, that my 'battery' is you, Miss Swan. Whatever the consequences of the curse, it's hampered my powers quite extensively."

"But, why me?"

"I'm certain it has something to do with your being True Love's product." Regina didn't bother to hide the disgust in her voice at such revelation. All her training, all her work and love had trumped her. If only her mother could see her now.

"Right." Emma laughed off the explanation, amused chuckle dying in her throat as Regina made no move to take the words back. "You're serious."

"Pathetic as it is, yes, dear, I'm serious. Now, if you'll excuse me," Regina pulled a torch from the wall. "I need to rest before we attempt to get back."

"Sleep does sound like a good idea," Emma agreed, moving as if to follow Regina in. She placed a hand on the Saviour's chest to halt her, briefly embarrassed by her position. "What? Am I supposed to sleep out here in the hall?"

Regina briefly debated with telling her that's where dogs were meant to sleep before her sense of decorum, drummed into her since birth, came to the fore. Besides, she might need the Saviour's power again and drawing from her would be considerably easier if they were on reasonable terms. "There are guest quarters there," Regina motioned to the doorway past hers, just beyond the reaches of the torch light.

Regina pulled the torch from her doorway, handing it to the woman. "Do try to stay out of trouble." She closed the door, blocking out the disgruntled protest she heard the woman gearing up for.

It was...odd, being in her old chambers. There was no other way to describe it. Last she had looked on this place, it had been as a prisoner, a defeated warrior. A soul wounded so deeply that she had gone to lengths that she now shuddered about, to reclaim some semblance of control. She had willingly taken the life of the last person who loved her to have vengeance.

To win.

Or at, least, not to lose. For once.

It had made sense at the time, Regina had felt the need for the curse as a burning, deep in the pit of her soul.

Looking back on it now, with nearly three decades between her and her old self, she knew Maleficent had been right. The Curse had carved a hole in her soul, creating an endless darkness. It had only been Henry who had begun to push at the darkness with light, his tiny soul filling her with purpose beyond herself. A reason to continue walking the unchanging landscape she had created as prison for Snow White and her followers.

Now, as she looked around the room, large bed covered in thick silk sheets and heavy fur cloaks, the unlit and mawing fireplace, the wide balcony that gave full view to the desolation outside these walls, Regina didn't feel a loser. She felt a prisoner, trapped by the choices she had made. Attempts to win that had only damned her further, giving her the semblance of happiness in her son, only to have it ripped away by the child of a woman she despised.

Regina shook her head, such maudlin thoughts weren't of any use and her mother had whipped her for far less flashes of self pity. She had a son to return to and mother to return to him. The rest of the town could burn for all she cared but she would return Emma Swan to Henry. She would atone to him for the crimes she had caused, she would earn back his love because it was all she had to hope for before the Charming's took their revenge.

She could deal with her inevitable end but Regina Mills refused to die a villain in her son's eyes.

Morning came swift and sure on the wings of a biting wind that cut across desolate planes and whipped Regina's curtains into a fury. She held tightly to the heavy furs, unaccustomed to being at the mercy of the elements. She took it in stride, wrapping a fur around her shoulders as she slid from the bed, cool stone like ice against her feet. Her heels lay discarded beside the bed, never to be worn in this land again, given the size of the blisters that cut her feet.

Most of her clothing from her reign was still tucked into the vast closet behind ornate carved doors. Something in there would be suitable enough to wear around the keep, certainly more suitable than the raw silk body sheath and stifling skirt set.

Regina moved to the closet, immediately discarding the more opulent dresses that she had favoured in the later days of her reign. It had taken no little magic just to move competently in the impressive, threatening and completely impractical outfits. Regina went to the back of her closet, to the remnants of her wardrobe during her earliest years as Queen, when Snow was still a fresh faced child and Regina no more than a wounded woman searching for a way out.

Brown leather pants were smooth and supple in her hands as she pulled them down, congratulating herself on her discipline that they slid over her legs as easily as they had nearly forty years ago. A cotton tunic -rough and the colour of creamed butter- was next, the shirt ties left undone as had been her preference during her brief stint as a rogue. A brown leather vest wrangled her breasts into some form of control, Regina not regretting her sudden freedom from the confines of a proper bra. She cinched the ties of the vest to hold rather ample endowments in place and clipped her belt over her hips, drawing her swords and dagger from her trunk to rest at her sides.

There was no telling what trouble might await them and without her magic, Regina wasn't about to be caught unarmed. In her earliest days, when magic had been her enemy, Regina had relied on her own skills for safety and those skills hadn't been ones she had allowed to degrade.

Her hair was too short for her traditional braid so she settled for leaving it loose, a little unhappy with its unkempt and wild appearance after a day trudging in the wind and a night tossing and turning. Nevertheless, the outfit was far more practical for this land than her previous outfit and she tugged her boots onto her feet, revelling in the feel of soft leather. They were like second skin as she laced them, tucking the left over lace into the tops of her boots that ended just bellow her knees.

Satisfied she was prepared for the day, she went in search of the Saviour.

Despite it being her castle, Regina allowed the Sheriff the dignity of a brief knock before she threw open the doors to the guest chambers. Nothing save a muted snore and a pile of golden hair beneath a mound of pillows attested that anyone occupied the spacious quarters.

It would figure the sheriff was an early morning layabout. While she would have normally left the lazy woman to her own devices, she was loath to let the Saviour out of her sight for long. There was no telling what might lie around the castle. They hadn't done a thorough inspection after all, and she wasn't about to get accosted without access to magic.

The guest room was somewhat chillier than the main quarters, as they faced toward the valley of the mountains where the wind whipped icy currents toward the castle. The torch from last night lay discarded at the foot of the bed, obviously left to burn out on the cold stone floor. Rolling her eyes at the mess of ash, Regina stepped over the spent torch and toward the bed.

The basest part of her egged her on to wake the Saviour with something abrupt, a loud noise or perhaps some water from the basin in the corner. Knowing from early morning town meetings that a sleepless Swan was a cranky Swan, she opted for a gentler poke at the mound of furs. The first two pokes produced nothing more than a grunt before Emma turned over. Regina gave a more insistent shove

that had the pile of fur producing a sound that resembled something human.

"Sheriff Swan, as sleep deprived as you may be, I'd like to get back to my son sometime this century."

A vague mumble forced Regina to lean over, unkempt hair falling past her shoulders to graze the pile of fur. "What?" Regina jumped back at the abrupt turn of the covers that produced an obviously unhappy Saviour.

"I said 'our son'."

Regina waved off the typical argument without giving voice to her objection, long strides eating the distance between bed and closet to find her companion something more appropriate to wear than jeans and her horrendous jacket.

"Don't you sleep, like, ever? It's been four hours, Regina." Emma held up her wrist, as if the watch on her hand were shining proof of her statement. Frankly, Regina, was surprised the Sheriff understood the concept of time at all, considering her tardiness that bordered on chronic.

"Stop your grumbling and I'll conjure us something decent for breakfast."

"And if I don't?" Emma asked, her tone hovering around petulant.

"Then I'll hunt for breakfast and you can go hungry."

Two rebellious green eyes poked over the ludicrously lagre pile of furs, Emma evidently gauging how much spite Regina actually had in her.

"I cursed an entire kingdom to get back at your mother, Sheriff. Testing my will isn't likely something you'll find breeds positive results."

A grudging moan and two bare feet hit the stone floor, a baleful stare levelled at Regina which she ignored as she dug through the closet for something appropriate to wear. Maleficient had been the last guest in these quarters and she was close enough for the Sheriff to match. Most of what Maleficient kept in the quarters were reasonable outfits, her favoured capes and cloaks exchanged for clothes more comfortable to work rigorous magic in.

She pulled out an outfit and tossed it on to the bed. It was nothing fancy, a pair of leather pants, black of course, and a heavy cotton shirt that felt more like a field hands cloth than a queens, again in black. Maleficient had never been one to diversify her colour choices. Emma's footwear was suitable enough to keep, and a simple light cloak to ward off the cool bite of the castle air would see the woman properly dressed.

"Put these on, I'll wait for you in my chambers."

"I can pick out my own clothes, Mom." The tone was so undeniably Henry that Regina had to force back her instinctual response to simply do as she asked.

"Fine, freeze to death, whatever suits you, Sheriff." Regina left the clothes in their heap at the foot of the bed, somewhat chagrined that her simple act of consideration had been sarcastically rebuffed. The Saviour hadn't lived in these lands and she would realize soon enough what wouldn't work. To coin a term that Kathryn favoured, the Sheriff 'didn't know shit'.

Emma, seeming to sense Regina had taken offence, looked contrite. She slid out of bed, grabbing at the clothing. "So, what's our plan?" Emma asked picking up the pants and eyeing them suspiciously before tugging them over lean legs. "I assume you have a plan since you got me up at the cracked ass of dawn."

"Indeed I do." Regina acknowledged, dreading the words she spoke next. "We're going to see my mother."

888

David turned to Mary Margaret, Snow, he corrected, his heart breaking at the abject sorrow that shone in his wife's eyes. They had lost Emma, again. And now, there was no prophecy to guide them, no promise that in due course their daughter -now a grown woman- would return to them and make their family whole once more.

There was nothing left to speak of Emma at all, except the scorched tile that showed were the portal had once been. And their guilt. It sat in the pit of his stomach, leaden and churning. They had failed, yet again, to protect their daughter.

"We have to get her back, we have to open the portal," Snow said as she pushed herself to her feet, dark eyes darting from him to the closed portal to the walls of the town hall, as if they would present her with answers.

"David, we have to get her back!" Hysteria crept into her voice and he pushed himself to his feet, tugging her tight against his chest, her heart rending sobs threatening to bring him to tears as well. But he couldn't cry, couldn't break. His daughter was out there, somewhere, with only their nemesis as her ally. Crying could come later, for now, he had to bring Emma home.

"There's nothing we can do right now, we need magic and neither of us have it."

"Gold." Snow didn't so much as hesitate in naming Rumpelstiltskin, her determination evident as she pushed himself out of his arms, lip steadying as her jaw squared. This was her, his Snow, not the shadow of herself that Mary Margaret was, this was his warrior woman, and she was ready to do battle.

"First we have to get to Henry, he deserves to know what happened and he needs to know we're going to get Emma back."

Snow nodded, following him as he took the lead, aimed for the Granny's Diner. Ruby had Henry occupied at the counter, rather, he pelted her with never ending questions about the Enchanted Forest as she served her patrons.

"Henry, come here son." It hurt his heart the way the boy's face lit up at seeing him. Henry had known all along, his dogged belief had set him on the path for Emma, saving them all. Henry's genuine joy was what David had hoped to see in Emma's face when she recognized who they were. That they had loved her all these years, and only tried to do right by risking her in the wardrobe.

It wasn't to be.

David had come to accept that Emma's love would have to be earned, not given. And the first way to do that was to take care of her son, to protect him as he had been unable to protect his daughter. He wouldn't fail her again.

"Where are my moms?" Henry looked up at them both, and David clapped a hand over his small shoulder, his other clasping around Snow's shaking hand. "They're not dead are they?" It was such a earnest question, from the lips of a child who was at once an adult and yet still young in many ways.

"No!" Was Snow's vehement response, her other hand clasping Henry's shoulder, a mirror of David's position. "But they are lost, they were pulled into a portal, back to the Enchanted Forest."

Henry turned to him, more trust in his eyes than David felt he deserved in that moment. "But you're going to find them, right? You're going to bring them home."

Charming didn't much care one way or the other if Regina made it back, she may have given sacrifice by going in after Emma but that didn't mitigate all the pain she had caused. Nor the fact that they wouldn't have been in this position if it wasn't for all the mayhem she had engineered.

Still, as many mistakes as Regina had made, Henry wasn't one of them. It would break the boy's heart to lose her. David had broken enough of his family's heart these last few weeks.

"Henry, I want you to listen to me very carefully. I will move the heavens themselves to get your mothers back here. Regina and I have had our differences, but she's family," he grudgingly admitted. "It makes her one of us now, and we always find each other."

The boy stood there belief written in his stance and the prince knew, deep in in his soul, that with such belief buoying him, he could not fail.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Obviously, no rights belong to me. No profit made.

Author's Notes: This work contains major plot spoilers up to Season 2, and minor character spoilers up to Season 3.

Comments and constructive criticisms are always welcome.

To whomever pointed out the lack of chapter break between FTL and Storybrooke, thank you. always manages to eat one of my chapter breaks and I didn't catch that one.

SQ SQ SQ

"Your mother? I assumed she was, well, dead." Emma's statement lacked all the tact Regina would expect but then, she knew better than to hope for couth from a woman who had practically been raised by wolves. Ignoring the urge to correct her companion's manners, Regina simply moved past her toward her own quarters.

"The theory that dead men tell no tales doesn't hold in the Enchanted Forest, Sheriff. Come along."

Breakfast was a brief and quiet affair, Regina quashing enough of her pride to lightly touch the Saviour's arm and call upon the power to conjure a passable meal. Had she the concentration to spare, she would have done herself the favour of conjuring a healthy dose of whiskey. Unfortunately, alcohol could be temperamental at the best of times and rusty as she was, she was liable make herself a glass full of wormwood.

When breakfast was complete, the dishes off to the side -so as not to waste energy conjuring them again- they walked the halls of the large but dilapidated palace. It was necessary to keep torches in hand, the bleak light of the late dawn hardly enough to illuminate the halls through the small windows. They were barely past the throne room before the silence graduated from uncomfortable to overbearing, a fact made evident when the Saviour actively engaged her in conversation.

"Why didn't anyone try to take this place? Did you put some sort of spell on it or were they all just that terrified of you?"

Regina gave the question its due, curious herself why any remaining survivors wouldn't have overtaken her former residence. The walls weren't much to speak of but were most certainly better than what little shelter the forest or mountains could bring."A little of column A, a little of column B, I suppose. There were numerous wards on the castle but without me here, the magic that kept this place protected would have been relatively easy to break. My guess is, whoever was left, no one was willing to chance it. Tales of my lack of hospitality toward unwanted house guests have no doubt travelled widely."

The sheriff made no comment to the statement, choosing to run lean fingers along rough stone, as if to commit the path to memory as they approached the dark stairwell. The stairwell would lead them to her mother's crypt and hidden inside that, a collection of magical objects that Regina had been unable to transport with her to Storybrooke.

Her acquisitions had been vast and all encompassing, her thirst for a knowledge to destroy her nemesis never ending. Only the most useful of those magics had been brought with her to Storybrooke and of that, Regina hadn't bothered with anything that entailed opening portals. Regina had cast the curse with the express desire of never returning to this gods forsaken land. She had also long assumed that breaking such a powerful curse, one so intrinsically tied to her magics, would either kill her or disable her to the point of no return.

"Why keep this place?" Emma asked, allowing the brief touch of her arm that enabled Regina to light the torches down the looming stairwell. Regina may know the ins and outs of the castle but she hadn't come this far to watch the saviour break her foolish neck on an ill lit passageway. "I thought Storybrooke was supposed to your happy ending or whatever. Why hang on to this place at all?"

Why indeed.

She held no emotional ties to the land. It wasn't a familial home, nor was it conquered territory worthy of occupying. It was nothing more than a pile of brick centered in grey fields and unwelcoming mountains. It fell back to her mother, as so many things did. It was necessary, in all things, to have an escape, no matter how simple an excursion.

"Storybrooke was where I was meant to be but I've learned it always helps to have a contingency plan." Had the curse broken and they been transported back to the enchanted forest, Regina knew she would need a stronghold from which to defend herself. Stealing a woman's kingdom was one thing, stealing a woman's child... Regina would have exhausted the well of Snow White's mercy.

"Always have an exit, now that, I get." Emma held up an arm to her mouth, coughing into the crook of her arm before a sneeze echoed through the passage. "Sorry, allergies," she offered as explanation. "If destroying my mother -which, still weird by the way- was 'Plan A', was the curse 'Plan B'?"

"No." Regina admitted grudgingly, mind falling back to all the failed plans that lay between her nemesis and the curse that, for some time, had felt like victory. "Thanks to your meddling parents, the curse was considerably further along the alphabet."

"What did the other letters entail?"

Regina waved off the question. "I'll leave those sordid tales to your mother to tell. I'm certain she'll love reminiscing about what a dark hearted shrew I am."

If there was a response, Regina didn't hear it, mind too occupied with the room that lay at the base of the stairs. It was simple enough, arched ceilings and plain walls, only the stone casket in the center speaking of the room being any importance. The casket stood alone. While she had both hated and revered her mother, Cora's place had never been at her beloved father's side. Henry Mills had been brought with her to Storybrooke but Cora -too dangerous even in death- had been left in this dark and desolate land. A poetic end to her wicked ways.

The coffin was richly carved, the Queen Mother deserved no less, intricate scenes playing across the side planks to tell the tale of a miller's daughter who became a prince's wife. Her father had been a lesser prince to be sure, the youngest of a weak kingdom, but it had been the first step on Cora's road to total control.

Regina traced the carvings, the peaks and dips in the ornately carved stone, a tactile tale of her mother's life. It was as she ran her fingers over the locks that the tale became suddenly unfamiliar. They locks had been opened and left so, her mother's sacred resting place compromised.

"Regina, what's wrong, your eyes are kind of, black...er than normal."

The words fell over her like rain, washing away the visual consequence of her anger. She was meant to be on common terms with the saviour and flashing the woman murder in her eyes wouldn't promote strength in their alliance. She closed her eyes, forcing down the magic, dark and deep, that ached to be let loose.

The objects in the room ahead called to her, tempting her with their presence, begging words to be spoken and spells to be cast. Vengeance. She could taste it on her lips, sweet and fresh, and only the saviour, the daughter of the precious Snow White, to unleash it upon.

"Regina?"

Her fists closed around the edge of the coffin, sharp corners digging into her palms, knuckles white as sensitive skin threatened to split open and pour her life's blood across her mother's grave in penance. Th pain focused her, as it always did, brought her attention back to what needed to be done. She needed to get back to Henry, back to his light before the darkness in her swallowed her whole and Emma was her key. Regina couldn't afford to alienate her.

Regina released her death grip on the corner, pressing her palms against the flat edge to push the lid off. It staunchly refused to budge, even the stone of her mother's coffin playing the rebel against her. She pushed again, the grunt that accompanied her effort every bit the part of the undignified peasant she was bred from. A light touch on the back of her hand and the Saviour was beside her, leaning into the stone in tandem. Together, it began to lose hold, the dark depths of the coffin opening up before them.

"I'm no expert but, these aren't supposed to be empty, right?" Emma asked, eyes turning from Regina to the casket, empty of all but the silk pillows she had laid Cora to rest on. Regina reached into the crypt, heedless of whatever traps her mother may have laid, a knowingly fruitless search as she pressed at the air. Her mother's body was gone.

"Graverobbers, maybe?" Her companion suggested, waving her torch around the room as though evidence to support her theory would present itself in the shadows.

"No." Of that much Regina was sure. The wards she had placed against her mother were stronger than even those on the castle itself. Blood magic could only be broken by those of her line.

If Regina hadn't opened the crypt, that left only Cora herself.

"I do believe the stories of my mother's death may have been greatly exaggerated," Regina said, forcibly removing the fear from her voice at the admittance. If Cora was truly alive, there wasn't anywhere, any world, where Regina could deem herself safe. And she thought yesterday had been a bad day.

"Uh, bummer?"

"Considering how much I paid to have it otherwise, indeed."

"You paid to have your mother killed?"

Regina wasn't sure why her companion's tone was one of incredulity. What did Emma expect, she hadn't earned the name of Evil Queen by playing nice with the peasantry. "I paid quite well, actually. Which is why this is all the more disappointing."

She had never regretted what she did to her mother, not banishing her to Wonderland and not sending Hook after her to collect her heart. Though, she should have known the pissant little pirate wouldn't hold up his end of the bargain.

Regina had cried over her mother's loss, in both cases. She loved Cora beyond measure, the woman who had shaped her, molded her, protected her, manipulated kings and commmoners alike to secure Regina's position. But without Cora, Daniel would be alive, there would be no Evil Queen, only Regina. No, she didn't regret her choice, mourned it, perhaps, but given the opportunity, the only change would have been to kill her mother sooner.

And not employ such a useless assassin. 

Regina searched her memory for any clue that her hired help, a charming pirate with a penchant for makeup and mayhem, had betrayed her. He had been cocky upon his return from Wonderland which should have been all the clue she needed. A confrontation with her mother was not worthy of such assuredness. It would have been a battle, bloody and merciless and left all participants on verge of collapse. Hook's claim to success itself should have been cause enough for question.

Regina had been so intent on casting her curse that she had gotten too sloppy to recognize a falsehood fed to her on a silver platter. It had been stupid and single minded and if she was certain of anything, it was that Cora would find a way to make her pay for such an amateur mistake. Reckoning was at hand and only vigilance would give Regina advantage.

While Regina was a better natural sorceress, her mother had the gift of knowledge, intrinsic and complete. Cora had been pure finesse in coming in to her powers, unlike Regina who had been able to brute strength her way through most tasks. But now, without that strength, leashed to a Charming for power, Regina was at severe disadvantage, a wounded gazelle in a lion's field.

It was certainly cause for some discomfort. There was no way to find her mother, a locator spell would no doubt trigger Cora's curiosity, if the magic inherent in the portal hadn't already.

"What does this mean?" Emma's question pulled Regina from her internal debate, firmly checking a locator spell in the 'too risky' category. If Cora was close and they alerted her to their presence, there wouldn't be time enough to escape.

"It means, Dear, that unfortunate as it may be, I believe my mother is still alive. And if you thought I was bad news, wait until you get a load of her."

"Okay so, no warm and fuzzies but we can deal with it, right? She's just a woman." 

"A woman whose aspirations to power know no bounds and who was capable of outwitting even Rumpelstiltskin. I assure you, her being a woman is more than enough."

"What's our game plan?"

"The same as before, find a way home as quickly as possible and preferably before anyone recognizes we're here. The magic to invoke a portal is extensive and it will call every witch and warlock within the kingdom to our location with the trail it leaves. We're only going to get one chance to do it right; presuming we find what we need."

"Which is?"

"A very particular spellbook." Regina walked up to a wall, motioning Emma over with her. One hand on the Saviour's shoulder, the other waved at the wall, brick crumbling to dust with a crack that resonated through the spacious chamber.

"Those were real rocks?" 

"Magic isn't infinite, dear. No sense wasting it when mundane means serve just as well." She stepped across the threshold, the air at once stale and crackling, the magic emanating from the room's vast depths nearly overpowering. She walked past with little regard for the objects, her own chambers rivalling those of Gold's shop. Her books -collected and stolen over the years- lay at the back of the room, guarded further still by a powerful, if ham handed, death curse she had picked up in her earliest years.

Her mother's books were on the shelves and within them, somewhere, the clues to casting a portal. Cora hadn't the power to activate a portal on her own and by the time Regina yearned for another world, it had been to have her nemesis suffer with her, a feat leaps and bounds beyond the already complicated task of portal creation.

Regina would need power, and no small amount. Whatever she could tap from the Saviour would help but more than likely it would require draining what was left from the objects in the room. Time for that later, before she could cook, she needed the recipe. The curse on her books was easily lifted and she began to pull at them, handing a stack to her companion.

"Look for anything with reference to dimensions, teleportation, portals and the like."

Emma flipped the cover on the top most book, consternation written across an attractive face. If Charming hadn't given the woman brains at least he had given her the courtesy of a half decent visage.

"I have no idea what language this is written in."

"Put those in a pile to the side, I'll sort through them myself." Regina unbuckled her belt, laying her sword to the side as she sat on a nearby stool to skim the books she had chosen for herself. Emma simply dropped where she stood, legs crossed, body hunched, brow furrowed in concentration as she began to read.

Covered in a too big cloak, look of fierce concentration on her face, the blonde looked all too like Henry when he wrapped himself in his blanket fort and read on his bed. It was strange, seeing the mannerisms of the one she loved in the body of someone she so loathed. Still, the familiarity, however brief, was a welcome reminder of what lay at the end of this troublesome road. Henry. Home.

It was hours before Regina deigned to call it quits, back near seized from bending over to read. She rubbed at her eyes, certain someone had walked by and thrown a bucket of sand in them when she hadn't been looking. Her companion looked no better for her time, chronic fidgeting testament to how difficult it was to find a comfortable position on the cold stone floor.

"It's late," Regina said, unfolding her legs from the too low stool and closing her book.

"It is? How can you tell?" Emma looked about the room, void of light, windows, clocks as well as anything else that might indicate how long they had been at work.

Regina pointed to the hourglass on the table. She had flipped it well over eight times, and that didn't count the time between when she had been too distracted to notice it had finished.

"Wow, old school." Emma stood, not without a groan that made Regina feel a little less guilty about her own body's discomfort. "May I?" At Regina's nod, Emma reached out and hefted the large hourglass, tipping it over and watching with great intent as the grains of sand poured themselves into the opposite chamber. "It's beautiful."

"It was a gift, from my father." His quiet request that she not spend all her time seeking vengeance. It was a request that went unheeded, but it had been a nice gesture none the less. "Come, I'll conjure some dinner and perhaps... a bath?"

"Is that your polite way of saying I stink?" Emma asked, following Regina from the room as she clipped her belt back around her hips.

"Merely that you and the animals I used to keep enjoy a certain scent."

"Did... did you just make a joke?" The saviour went so far as to stop on the steps, looking to Regina for confirmation.

"An observation, Dear. I handed in my sense of humour when they gave me my Evil status card."

The sharp bark of laughter from her companion was amusement enough for Regina who laughed in turn at the ludicrous idea at having made a joke at her own expense. She had killed people for less.

The saviour's occasional chuckle followed her as she led them back to their quarters.

Dinner was a simple affair, the food conjured out of requirement for nourishment, not any true desire to eat. Conversation was stilted, the momentary calm between them vanished into the frigid air of Regina's quarters. She limited talk to the subject of the books themselves, surprised by what Emma had managed to retain from briefly skimming such involved texts. Though, Regina supposed in Emma's previous profession, the woman had been forced to think on her feet, observe and recollect on command to locate and acquire her bounties. Still, it was impressive and the woman would likely prove a competent protege to someone with the patience to teach.

"So, same again tomorrow? I don't suppose I could talk you into an extra hour of sleep?" Emma asked as Regina led her to the doors of her chamber. 

"Sleep when you're dead, Sheriff."

"Yes, ma'am, reporting for duty at zero dark stupid." Emma gave a reasonable imitation of a salute before sliding out the door, pulling it closed behind her. Regina walked to the window, leaning against the balcony railing as she took in the land before her. She allowed herself a moment to contemplate the ridiculous situation she had created for herself finding she had come out better than expected.

There was a part of her that hadn't believed she would survive the portal. At least she wasn't alone in this kingdom though her companion did leave a little something to be desire. Still, better than the nauseatingly honourable Charmings. They had shelter and access to food, Regina had been in worse situations. This land was by no means a haven but she comforted herself with the knowledge that it would be temporary, provided they could find a way to open a portal.

While she did take some measure of pleasure from making the sheriff uncomfortable, it was more a desire to get the hell out of this place that drove her to long hours of looking for escape.

Nothing but depression and disappointment littered these halls, these rooms, the stench of her failure as acute as the wind that whistled outside. She had been at her darkest, her most vulnerable here, driven to desperation that she cringed to think of, even now.

Regina tightened her grip on the railing, pushing away thoughts of those times. That would not be her again, she wouldn't allow it. She would get back to Henry, if by no other power than sheer force of will.

This entire wretched kingdom and its memories be damned.

SQ SQ SQ

"Damn it!" Regina tossed the book to the side, the first break in the silence since the early morning meal.

Emma glanced up from her book, a blonde eyebrow hiked nearly to her hairline. "What's up?" It was only Regina's second outburst in as many weeks, the first being over Emma's atrocious insistence on small talk. Regina was quite proud of herself, all things considered. She had managed not only to avoid homicide but to mostly keep her temper -with Snow White's spawn of all things- a feat she would have thought unmanageable not too long ago. Still, this particular instance warranted the exclamation of her frustration.

"All the literature points to opening a portal as being a death sentence for the caster of the spell. I can't find evidence, even anecdotal, of someone being able to call that type of power from themselves and survive. "

"How's that possible? I mean, obviously people have done it before."

"Fairies use dust and giants used magic beans. Otherwise, it's generally considered black magic to tear the fabric of dimensions."

"So, they did it for shits and giggles?"

Regina rolled her eyes at the crass comment. "No, I'm sure they had purpose but it appears they use conduits rather than personal power. The way I can draw from you, they would have drawn from others."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning the type of people who cast portals on their own likely had an apprentice they drained dry for the occasion." Regina let that tidbit sink in before continuing on. "Since that's not a viable option for us, we're..."

"Screwed."

"In a manner of speaking. An uncouth manner, mind you."

"There's got to be some other way."

"There may be." Regina slid a reference book across the work table, pointing to the most hopeful passage to date. "Wherever a portal has been opened before, the fabric of the world is weaker. It's possible it might be easier to pull it apart, but locating a portal site is about as likely as you letting me do the smart thing and drain a witch to use their powers."

"We're not doing that. I'm not killing anyone so we can get back home, what kind of lesson does that teach Henry?"

"That we won't let anyone or anything stand in the way of getting home to him. I'll make it easy, we'll find a dark witch, someone who already has blood on their hands."

"No, Regina, we're not killing anyone in cold blood."

There was that damnable Charming sense of honour, what a waste. If the woman was anything like her mother, pushing at the issue further would make Emma dig in her heels for spite.

"Isn't this whole place a portal? Weren't you here went you sent an entire world to another dimension?"

"Yes and no. The curse was a magic all on its own, it required far more than either of us, alone or combined, has access to now."

"But you did it once."

"I did," Regina admitted, tempted to close her eyes to bite back the tears that threatened but more fearful that all she would see in the darkness was her father's face. "The price I paid... I don't have that kind of currency anymore."

"So, that's it? Two weeks of reading dry as dust memoirs and all I have to show for it are leg cramps and allergies? This is bullshit, there's got to be another way."

"I just gave you another way."

The glare the blonde threw her way said that wasn't a topic up for further discussion. "We can't leave Henry alone." Whatever else Emma might have said was lost to the cough that overtook her, an increasingly common occurrence whenever the woman was over excited or strained herself. The deep bronchial echo of the cough belied Emma's insistence that the cough originated from allergies.

Despite herself, Regina leaned over, patting Emma's back to help force up the phlegm, the other woman folded over at the waist to contain the cough. When Emma seemed satisfied it was under control, she sat up, continuing on as if her lung rattling hack was of no consequence. Stupid, stubborn, goat herder.

"I have no intention of leaving Henry alone," Regina said, using a brief touch of Emma's arm to conjure a glass of water for the woman. "But, as it stands, between my lack of powers and your excessive morals, creating a portal on our own is out of our reach. I have some magic but it's by no means on the level it was before the curse and without you acting as a conduit, it's useless anyway."

"What if we combined it, like you used your magic and mine, half and half, would that work?"

It was something to consider, the other being that Regina simply drained the saviour and found her own way back to Storybrooke. But Regina had come this far for Henry and was far too stubborn to admit that something as insignificant as a transdimensional wall would keep her from her self made promise to bring Emma home. "It's possible it could work but the risk isn't one I'm willing to take right now when our other options haven't been exhausted."

"Other options? I thought a portal was our only option."

"it is, and self created is preferable but we may be able to negotiate passage another way."

"That being?"

"Asking a fairy for a favour." The idea of lowering herself to such means would have been intolerable if the reward of seeing her son didn't overshadow her own pride.

"A fairy, like a fairy godmother?"

"Precisely. They won't come to my call but you are, technically, a princess and the daughter of Snow White. If they'll come to anyone, it's you."

"You actually think that'll work?" Emma's incredulity matched Regina's own but they were limited in choices.

"At this point, we don't have much else to try."

"'Plan B', huh?"

"Indeed."

"How do we get this party started?"

"We'll have to locate a fairy first. They don't make a point of coming to this area of the kingdom, not with me here."

"They won't just come to my call?"

"Magic has its limits, Dear. I'm afraid we're already at the limit of them. This area of the kingdom is particularly devoid of light magic that the fairies need." Regina stood, pulling a book from the shelf. It was more about entrapping fairies to do one's own bidding but the section on calling them would likely be peaceable enough. The summoning spell was simple, the ingredients readily available on the shelves of her work station. Her companion watched in curious silence as she assembled the potion, calmed by the simplicity of creation.

It was on the reasons Regina enjoyed cooking in the other world, a task she considered beneath herself in the enchanted forest. Step by step directions yielded a predictable creation that one desired, whether it be apple pie or a sleeping curse. It was a calming change from the chaos that her life, both in Storybrooke and the Enchanted forest, had become.

It was quick work to finish the potion, a pinprick of Emma's blood required to seal the ingredients together.

Emma stared dubiously at the needle Regina offered. "Isn't that what got one of the princesses in Henry's book into trouble?"

"Aurora." Regina stated, well versed in Maleficent's long held grudges. Though Regina supposed she wasn't in any position to throw stones at people who couldn't let things go. Rather than argue the point with Emma, Regina jammed the needle into her own finger, a bright bubble of blood welling at the tip of her finger. When no reaction was produced, save to suckle on her finger to clean it, Emma stood and walked over.

A quick dip of the needle in the candle flame to sterilize and Regina took the saviour's hand in her own. The tension was evident in her palms, tendons tight, Emma ready to bolt at the first sign of bad intent.

"Relax, Sheriff, if I wanted you dead, I've had ample opportunity to achieve it."

She made a quick jab, squeezing the effected finger to bring the blood to the surface. Six drops into the potion turned crushed ingredients into a swirling purple liquid. Regina took her map of the enchanted forest, rolling it across the large wood table and poured the liquid across it. If the spell worked, it would form rivers leading toward the locations of the fairies nearest them making it easier to summon one of the irksome little mosquitoes.

"Is it broken?"

The liquid sat where Regina had poured it over the illustration of her castle, mocking her with its lack of motion. Regina levelled a dark glare at her companion, her spells always worked. To fail on such a simple enchantment... there was rusty and there was pathetic. Grudgingly, she checked the instructions, certain she had followed them to the letter. The spell simply couldn't find its target.

"There are no fairies." The idea was so far fetched that Regina could barely comprehend it. She had spent years fruitlessly wishing for her own godmother to protect her and longer still eradicating the little pests. To suddenly have the forest be void of them? She couldn't even enjoy the small victory when the cause was unknown. What was powerful enough to rid the forest of its protectors?

"Was it the curse? Maybe they're all in Storybrooke."

"It greatly reduced their number," Regina admitted, the entire convent was populated with them. Still, it by no means accounted for all of them. When she had thought the enchanted forest was merely a black void, she assumed the fairies had died but the forest was intact, the fairies' presence should have been felt. "They're magical creatures and they depend on fairy dust. With the unpredictability of magic here, maybe they went for greener pastures," Regina hazarded.

"But, Henry's book, they're supposed to protect the forest, they're..."

"Good?" Regina finished, eyebrow raised. "Even those on the side of good have survival instincts, Sheriff, that's how you ended up in your world to begin with."

"Fine, Plan B's a bust. What next?" 

Regina frowned, uncertain what to try now. They needed magic, a lot of it. Even draining what residual magic was left in her artefacts would be a pittance of what was needed. Only one such object still existed in the forest that was capable of sending people between worlds. Providing it still existed.

"Give me your hand." Regina held out her own, waiting for Emma to place her palm against hers.

"Are you taking me on a date?"

"Are you taking the matter of us getting home to our son seriously?"

"Only because you said 'our son'," Emma rebutted, placing her hand in Regina's. She would have responded, biting it back as a slip of the tongue, but she was too distracted by the warmth of Emma's hand and the crackle of energy that pulsed through her skin where they touched. "Feels kind of cool."

"I beg your pardon?"

"This," Emma clasped her hand more firmly to illustrate her point. "That's magic right, I mean I can feel your power?"

"More that you can feel your own magic through me. You're made of the purest magic, even if its latent, it's still in there. My control can help you feel what's already present."

"Can I use it by myself? Do I need you?"

Regina was tempted to lie, tell the Saviour she needed her as much as the inverse was true but it was an easy theory to test and trust between them was integral to being able to access Emma's magic safely. With her experience, Regina didn't doubt she could pull the magic from Emma without the woman's consent but it was unlikely to be a pleasant experience, for either of them. "I don't know. Magic works differently here, from Storybrooke and from before, with training it might be accessible."

The look on Emma's face told her all she needed and Regina shook her head before the question could be given voice. "I am not a teacher, Sheriff, nor would you want to learn the magic I have to teach." She hoped the tone of her voice indicated it was officially a dead subject but was unsurprised that the Sheriff either missed or ignored the cue.

"There's got to be something useful, just teach me how to access it. We have to get home Regina and if I have to learn it to get back, I will."

Whether it was a desire not to see someone follow in her footsteps or to protect her son from the slippery slope Emma wanted to walk, Regina was adamant that wouldn't happen. Giving woman access to power without proper training was akin to handing a toddler a loaded weapon in a crowd. "No. The power I access comes from darkness, it is darkness. And a desire for escape is what set me on this path in the first place."

"To Storybrooke?"

"To magic. I wasn't always this way." She had been weak before, granted, and Regina had no desire to return to the days where she had allowed her mother to pull her beloved's heart from his chest. But she did sometimes mourn the woman she could have been, the children she could have had. But now she had Henry, to be responsible for, to be accountable to. "I won't be the one responsible for you walking this path, I will not have Henry blame me for that."

Regina closed her eyes, tightening her grip on Emma's hand as she reached out mentally. She could sense the magic in the room, Emma a bright burst of light in the darkness. Beyond that was her collection, occasional pockets of winking white light surrounded by a rainbow of other colours, dark and evil. Suitably centered, Regina extended her reach, slowly, past her dark lands, beyond the White mountains. Small pockets of light spread out before her, weather witches, healers, low level sorcerers, no one of any use. Further beyond that, at the very end of her own powers she could sense edges of the White Kingdom proper.

Regina drew from the wellspring beside her, hearing Emma's gasp at the sudden change in energy as she extended her reach. As if it was linked to Emma herself -far all Regina knew, it was- the object Regina had hoped for pulled her in. A bright bastion of white light that stood out against a dire kingdom. The damned vessel that had sent the Saviour off, effectively guaranteeing that Regina's curse, her happy ending, would be temporary at best.

Regain withdrew her hand from the Saviour, her view of the White Kingdom whipped back at such a break neck pace that her eyes snapped open in response. How she loathed limitations.

"What was that place?"

"You could see it?" Regina hadn't realized that was the case, that Emma could piggbyack off her own power. Interesting.

"Yeah, a castle and something else, a closet?"

"A wardrobe."

"What does it mean?"

"It means, Dear, that we're going home."

SQ SQ SQ

David looked up from his contemplation of his coffee at the sound of the outer door opening. He stood, instinctively reaching for the pistol at his shoulder to be sure it was in place. The worst of the complaints had quieted down after the first week but after arresting a smiling King George, he expected to be accosted by both his victims and his supporters.

He let out a breath of relief to find his grandson ambling through the doors, back pack hitched high on his small shoulders. His wife wasn't far behind, having gone back to teaching for the first day after convincing the residents of Storybrooke that returning to their lives would make the town run much more smoothly.

"Hey guys, how was your day?" He accepted the kiss from his wife, squeezing his grandson's shoulder in greeting.

"We had a few hiccups." Mary Margaret turned her gaze to Henry without further explanation. David pursed his lips, turning to his grandson so Henry could explain only to have no further explanation given. "Someone decided to skip class this afternoon, thankfully Leroy caught him heading out the door and brought him back."

"Henry." He hoped his tone was appropriately chastising. He hadn't been able to practice it much before he suddenly had a twenty eight year old daughter and a ten year old grandson dropped into his lap. "You know it's dangerous to be out there on your own. We still don't know everyone who's here and there are a lot of people who may want to hurt us."

"Someone has to do something. My moms are over there and no one's doing anything!"

"Henry," Snow's voice was pleading, it was a conversation both familiar and fruitless, they'd been having it near daily for the past two weeks. "We're doing all we can. Blue's got all the fairies working on it. The dwarves are looking for fairy dust in the mines. While we wait, there isn't much more that we can do. You need to go to school."

"When my moms are in trouble? There has to be something else, something in my book."

"Magic is limited here, Henry, even if there are spells in the book, we don't have the magic to do them. Yet." David felt it important to focus on 'yet', he would go on any quest, fight any dragon, make any deal if it meant bringing his daughter home. They didn't have many options, but that didn't mean he wouldn't cut the fabric of this dimension with nothing more than his sword if it meant finding Emma.

"What about Mr. Gold? He has to have something."

Snow's shake of her head showed what she thought of the idea and David had to admit, he had no desire to owe the imp anything. Unfortunately, they were quickly running through the last of their ideas. The fairies weren't making any progress, the dwarves weren't hopeful and his daughter was in the middle of a destroyed kingdom with only his most hated enemy as an ally.

"He's right," David said, turning to his wife, hoping to see support in her eyes, She had to know he didn't want to do it but Emma's safety came above all else, that was what being a parent was. He hadn't had much time to be a father, only a few minutes at Emma's birth and a few days after the curse broke, but Emma was as much a part of him as the heart that beat in his chest. He would lay down his life without question and if Gold knew how to save her, it was worth any price.

"All right," Snow conceded. "But you're staying at Granny's." It was said with the authority she used on her troops, no room for argument left in the statement. Henry had the grace to accept his victory like a gentlemen, nodding his agreement to Snow.

"Let's go see the imp." David locked up the Sheriff's office, sandwiching Henry between himself and his wife as they walked down the sidewalk. There was no telling who was where and he had a responsibility to his daughter, and to Regina, to protect the boy. They dropped him off at Granny's, Ruby guiding him to the rearmost booth, under Granny's watchful gaze.

Ruby returned to walk them out, eyebrow raised at the unexpected drop off. "What's up? Trouble?"

"Hopefully not, we're going to meet with Gold, see if he might have a lead on Emma."

Ruby didn't speak, the down turn of full lips telling them what she thought of the idea. The imp's reputation preceded him and nothing wanted came cheap. "You're sure?"

"We're sure."

"All right, whistle if you need me. You know how to whistle don't you?" Ruby winked at them before ducking back into the diner. It was weird, reconciling their old lives with their new, pop culture with old knowledge.

They walked down the sidewalk, the cool fall wind whipping off the bay, cutting through the paltry protection of his leather jacket. He hoped wherever she was, Emma had found better clothing than what she had left in. Snow seemed qually chilled and he wrapped an arm across her shoulders, holding her small body tight to him. The Storybrooke storefronts were finally alive again, dormant for nearly two weeks as the residents searched for one another and tested out their new lives against their old.

It was a quick walk to Gold's, the silence between them speaking volumes. They were at the door, hand on the handle, when Snow finally spoke, worry shining in dark eyes.

"What are we willing to give?" She asked, not with reticence, only so she knew what to expect should Gold be able to return their daughter to them. He saw only agreement in her eyes when he gave her his answer.

"Everything."

SQ SQ SQ

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